Monster
by infinite shadow
Summary: It's pure fluff, with absolutely no redeeming qualities what so ever. There's brotherly teasing, some blood and some memories. Meant to be humorous


**Disclaimer: **In no way shaper or form do I own anything recognizable in the following story. Just wish I did.

**Author's notes: **This little piece has absolutely no redeeming qualities what so ever. Trust and Faith is still being worked on, but I needed a little break from the intensity for what has happened and what is about to happen. This is pure fluff, no plot, just a little blood and some brotherly moments.

Thanks to lynxlan for the quick beta today.

Enjoy!

**Monster**

**By infinite shadow**

Sam sat in the bowels of a large library with a slight smile tugging on his lips. He loved places like this. They were slightly dark, the light from overhead lights forced away by the stacks of books that surrounded him on long tall shelves. It was dry, smelled of old parchment and it was quiet. Every once in a while someone would walk past where he was sitting but they didn't pay attention to him as they passed by.

This place was almost like coming home and gave him an unexplainable sense of comfort. In reality home was the Impala, one of the only constants that always remained the same no matter what. They'd seen and done almost everything with that car. But a place such as this, with it's plethora of books and vaults of untold information, was like going to grandma's house. Just as comforting as home but it's just that little bit extra special, like a treat, that you could never get from home.

He'd found himself a row of books that ended at the wall and he'd sat down cross legged with his back against the wall. He'd been here for an hour or so and sheets of papers littered the floor with half open books resting on top of them or buried beneath them. In short he'd made quite a mess but no one seemed to care.

Gently he ran a hand down the page of the book almost looking like a gentle caress. The pages were old and brittle and the texture reminded him of books he'd seen at Pastor Jim's from time to time when he'd been helping with research but not old enough to hunt.

He shifted feeling slightly uncomfortable. It was as if someone was watching him but he couldn't see anyone. Besides the only person who knew he was even here was Dean and he hated musty old places like this. He would, on occasion and without complaint or question, research in a library but Dean definitely preferred bars and alcohol to libraries and books.

Shaking his head he forced himself back on task. He started to turn a page of an old book and hissed as it bit into his skin. Dropping the book onto his lap he looked at his index finger. He couldn't see the cut but it stung like crazy. Squeezing the digit he made a little bead of blood seep out of his miniscule cut for it to sit atop his skin. He stared at the drop of deep crimson blood then stuck the offending digit into his mouth. Instantly he tasted copper and the stinging eased.

He shifted slightly moving his head slightly closer to the old book he was looking at. Shaking his head slightly he sighed and then promptly sneezed. Ok that was the one draw back. The dust was incredible.

Tiredly he rubbed a finger over his eye and blinked several times. Their next job was just a jumble of clues and he knew there was something to it. Now he had to prove it to Dean before they could go forward. So here he was sitting in the dark recesses of a library while Dean was outside in the beautiful summer day washing and waxing the Impala back at the motel. He knew he'd rather be here and he also knew that his brother would never let him help with his pride and joy.

Sam had made his way to the end of another large dusty book and shifted again. As a lawyer he would have had to do some research but this was just making his skin itch. Which was unusual in itself. He had never minded doing the research or studying. He loved the texture of old paper beneath his fingers and the feel of cool leather under his hands. Sitting in a corner of a library was as normal as shooting rock salt at a spirit. So why was this becoming such an issue?

He pushed away the feelings and pulled his hand back from the book so he could close it. Hissing slightly he pulled up his thumb to inspect where a flash of pain had been a second ago. There was nothing there so he squeezed it slightly and a small line of blood appeared on his knuckle.

"Great," he whispered then wiped the small amount of blood onto his jeans.

It was another paper cut. You would think that someone who had spent so much time around books would know better. But as he looked over his throbbing hand this had to be a record even for him. Every finger, and now thumb were covered in little paper cuts.

He picked up his pad of paper and made a notation of something he'd just read. Then he grabbed another book and began his search again.

A while later Sam began to feel very uncomfortable again and he sat up from where he'd been leaning over the book he'd been reading. A book about half way up the shelf teetered precariously then began to fall. Seeing it in his peripheral vision Sam automatically brought up his hand to block the book from hitting his head.

He hissed again when several pages cut into him across the back of his hand and wrist. He shook it for a moment then took a look. Several red lines, along with one tear probably from one of the corners of the book that had hit his wrist, were now plainly visible. An ache began to form and he wondered if he'd broken the bone again.

Deciding he'd had enough for one afternoon of research he stood up. Looking down he saw the mess that he'd made. Movement caught his eye and he glanced up to see a teenaged boy rush over to him.

"Oh I'm so sorry! Are you ok? I didn't know anyone was here," he said in a rush as he got to Sam.

"It's all right. I'm ok. No harm done," he said softly as he inconspicuously moved his bleeding hand behind his back.

"Thank goodness. It's my first day here and I'd have to be fired cause I'd hurt one of our patrons," he said as a flush creped over his cheeks. "Can I help you move your books and papers to a table nearby? It might be safer."

Sam chuckled. "No. No it's fine. Actually I had just decided to call it a day anyway," he said.

"Oh ok. Why don't you stack up what you don't want to take with you and I'll put it away for you?" the clerk offered.

"Ah well I won't be taking any of it. I'll just gather up my papers and be on my way," Sam said as he jammed his hand that was now dripping blood into his coat pocket.

"Um ok," the teenager said. He gathered up an arm load of books and headed out of the isle.

Thankful that the boy was gone Sam took out his hand and picked up his notes and papers that he'd strewn everywhere. He hurried out of the library as fast as he could. He'd never been freaked out by a library before, but there was a first time for everything.

He took a deep breath as he exited the building and squinted slightly in the bright afternoon. Pulling out his cell phone he turned it on and was surprised to see that he'd been in there for over six hours. With a grimace he quickly dialled his brother's phone.

"Yeah," Dean answered on the first ring.

"Hey Dean," Sam said.

"Samuel," Dean said coolly.

Sam couldn't help but smile. "Sorry," he said contritely.

Dean didn't say anything.

"I know I said two hours," Sam said softly.

"Just be glad that I didn't stop by to check on you. Oh wait I did. _Three times_," Dean said tersely. "I had to stop myself from surrounding your row with salt just in case you fell asleep."

Sam sighed. "Well I'm done for now. Do you want me to bring back dinner or do you want to hit a restaurant?"

"Pizza. Pepperoni. None of that pineapple crap you always order. I want you back here within an hour Sam or I'll come looking. You don't want me checking up on you again," Dean said and the line went dead.

Sam pulled the phone back from his ear and stared at it for a moment. It was almost as if his big brother was channelling his father. With a shake of his head he headed down the street. There was a pizza place a few doors down from the library.

A few minutes later Sam entered the restaurant and stepped up to the pizza counter. He smiled at the girl behind the till. "Hi. I'd like a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese to go," he said.

"Sure," she said as she wrote it down.

Sam smiled to himself as he headed to the bathroom to wash off his bloody hand. He'd ordered a pepperoni and mushroom pizza just because he knew how much Dean hated, detested, and loathed mushrooms on his pizza. In fact he once told Sam that he'd rather take a walk in the snow stark naked, than eat mushrooms on a pizza.

Almost an hour later Sam stepped up to the door of the motel room. He banged on the door.

Dean opened the door and looked at him to the pizza and back up at Sam.

"Pizza delivery," Sam said with a smile as he held up the box slightly.

Dean shook his head. "Dude you've been almost an hour. Thirty minutes or less or it's free. I'm so not paying for that pizza."

Sam shook his head and shoved past Dean to get into the room. "Bite me," he said just loud enough for his brother to hear him.

He put the pizza box down on the table and opened the lid.

"Damnit!" He hissed as he wrenched back his hand from the box.

Dean frowned and moved over to his brother. "What's the matter? Can't handle your pizza?" he asked but there was no actual teasing tone to the words and his touch was gentle as he took his brother's bleeding hand in his.

"It's just a cardboard cut," Sam said as he rested his hip against the counter. "It's nothing."

"Sam your hand is covered in small cuts and some bruising," he said and glanced up at his brother. "What is this?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I just seem to be cutting myself on everything today. It's fine Dean," he said as he tried to pull his hand away.

"Jeez Sammy. You go out and do some research and you come home with your hand cut to shreds. What the hell were you doing?" Dean asked as he pulled his brother's hand closer to the sink in the small kitchenette and held the gashed palm under luke-warm water to wash out the cut.

Sam flinched as the water touched the gash in his palm. "Dean it's fine," Sam insisted and his tone bordered on whining.

"Sam we just got your cast off and now you get sliced and diced? No way am I gonna let you deal with this on your own. Just end up infected. You're gonna be lucky if I let you out of my sight for bathroom privileges. Library my ass," Dean mumbled as he washed the wounds on the back of his hand as well.

Sam sighed softly and allowed his brother to continue to rant as he cleaned out his wound. A nostalgic feeling washed over him as he remembered Dean doing this for him countless times as he grew up. Including the colourful ranting. In a way it weirded him out he was suddenly feeling very safe and secure under his brother's ministrations. He was an adult. He shouldn't need his brother to make him feel this way.

Dean turned off the water. "How the hell did you manage to do all of this in a few hours anyway?" He demanded.

"Ah well it kinda started before you woke up. I opened a package of razor blades and gave myself a cardboard cut from the packaging. Then I sat down and started researching with Dad's journal and the laptop. Well I gave myself a few paper cuts from the pages of Dad's journal. Then I got several off the pages at the library," Sam said then he pointed at the back of his hand. "Well I got these when I heroically rescued myself from a falling book. And, um, well… you saw what I did with the pizza box."

Dean had stopped working on his hand and was looking at him with a slightly gaping expressing. His features hardened slightly. "Uh huh," he said softly. Then it was quiet for a minute as he gently towelled off Sam's hand.

"It's not that bad," Sam said softly watching as the scratchy motel towel gathered many red blotches on it.

Dean shook his head. "Sit down. I'm going to clean those and bandage them. So help me Sammy I wrapped you in bubble wrap when you were six. Don't think I won't do it again," he said as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"You never wrapp-" Sam started to deny that it ever happened when a memory slammed into him so vivid that he burst out laughing. "Oh my God! You wrapped me in bubble wrap!"

"I spent six months believing you weren't really a Winchester. No grace or coordination at all," Dean tisked from the bathroom as he pulled out the med kit.

"Yeah. I remember. You had me believing that skin would only grow back over knees so many times and after that they would bleed forever," Sam said with a smile then glared mockingly at his brother. "You little shit."

Dean had a big smile on his face as he came out of the bathroom. "Definitely one of my finer moments as a big brother. Dad couldn't figure out why you were walking funny for days."

"I didn't want to trip over anything," Sam said lost in a memory. "Then I did fall."

"Yeah tore open your shin and you screamed like the world was ending. I swear that was the beginning of Dad's grey hair," Dean said. "I think I still owe him laps for that little escapade. But man you should've seen your face."

Sam shook his head. "You fixed it though. Dad couldn't calm me down and … He … He left?"

Dean shook his head. "He left you on the couch and told me to calm you down while he got some antiseptic or something. No matter what I did you wouldn't calm down. You screamed you were gonna die from the loss of blood."

"You took off your AC/DC shirt and placed it over the gash. Told me it was a magic shirt and it would fix everything," Sam said.

"You were so easy back then. You'd believe just about anything that I said. And I told you some strange stuff," Dean said as he sat next to Sam and began cleaning out the cut.

"But the magic shirt fixed my knees and my shin," Sam said and grimaced slightly as the antiseptic touched his raw skin.

Dean snorted. "No it didn't. Your knees were almost healed anyway, the gash wasn't that deep and the bleeding had already slowed. A little bit of pressure stopped it from bleeding. I just had to calm you down enough to do that."

Sam shook his head. "Whatever. I am so not letting you do that to me again."

Dean looked up from where he was wrapping Sam's hand in gauze and looked like he was going to argue good naturedly. But the smile fell away from his face and he turned serious. "No it can't be," he said softly.

Sam raised his eye brows at the sudden change. "Cant be what Dean?"

"Oh man," Dean said then got up and walked to the table picked up the medical tape and returned to the bed. He looked like he had a sudden headache. "This.. This is bad."

"Dean they're just a couple of paper cuts and a cardboard cut," Sam said.

"Exactly," Dean said.

Sam just stared at him in exasperation. "Exactly what?"

"I'm gonna have to get you a protection amulet, more wards for the motel room and reinforce the ones in the Impala," Dean mumbled as he gently put medical tape onto the gauze he wrapped around Sam's hand.

"Dean what?" Sam asked not sure if he should be exasperated or worried.

Dean looked at him as if he just realized he'd spoken aloud. He cleared his throat and looked at Sammy like he was going to tell him what the plan was for that's evening's hunt. "We'll keep you away from paper and anything with sharp edges just to be safe."

Sam snorted and pulled his hand back. "Whatever."

"Dude this is serious," Dean said in a soft but commanding tone.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Ok Dean."

"Don't you roll your eyes at me. I'm serious Sammy. We're gonna have to keep you away from any paper, or even better all wood products. Safer that way."

"What are you talking about," Sam said as he stood up.

"Laptop only. Have to keep you with metal objects," Dean said seriously.

"Dean what the hell are you going on about?" Sam demanded.

"You really don't know do you?" Dean asked looking concerned.

"Obviously," Sam said exasperated.

Dean shook his head. "Oblivious is more like it."

"Dean," Sam started and saw Dean's eyes look directly at him. His brother was taking control. Just like he always did. Just like Sam could always count on him doing. Dean was going to fix this, whatever this was.

"Sammy I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, ok," Dean said. "You have nothing to worry about."

Sam saw how serious his brother was and he shook his head as he eyes got wider. "What…. Dean? I mean… what is," he stammered well on his way to panic mode.

Dean took a deep breath and put his hand on his baby brother's shoulder. He looked deep into his little brother's frightened eyes and gives his shoulder a quick squeeze. "Man I'm sorry. You work with paper all the time. You used to do almost all of the research. I was sure dad would've told you about them…"

"W-what? Tell me about what?" Sam asked his eyebrows as high as they could go, his eyes wide with fear and his voice just above a whisper.

"You've…" Dean started then swallowed heavily as if he didn't want to tell Sam the bad news. "You've been attacked by a paper incidere monasterienseBut don't worry little brother I've got you're back."

Sam nodded. "How do we…" He said then frowned as his panicking brain slowly translated what Dean had just said. "Wait… I… A paper cut monster? Dean!"

"Dude you should see your face!" He said and started to laugh.

Sam roughly shoved his brother's hand from his shoulder. "Jerk!"

Dean laughed harder as he heard what he considered an endearment from his little brother and got going for a slice of pizza.

Sam sat there and glared at his brother as he shook his head.

"You had better not bled over the pizza or you're so going out for more," Dean said.

"Kinda wish I got anchovies on that pizza now," Sam mumbled to himself.

Dean took a piece of pepperoni and mushroom out of the box. Without looking at it he took a large bite and promptly choked. His jolly demeanour disappeared in a split second and he glared at Sam. He spit out the pizza, went to his bed and picked up his jacket.

Sam snickered. "Man it's just mushrooms. Pick them out."

Dean slipped on his jacked and looked at Sam. "I'm going out. I'll be back with a hamburger for me and bubble wrap for you."

Sam laughed as his brother left the motel room slamming the door behind him. He threw out Dean's piece of pizza and helped himself to a piece. He started towards the desk with his research on it and his eyes bulged out as the papers seemed to move on their own. Inching forward. Towards him.

Sam stared at them for a second and he could've sworn they moved menacingly at him again.

"Paper incidere monasteriense," Sam whispered and the paper jumped slightly on the table.

The Impala roared to life outside startling Sam and he dropped his pizza on the table. The paper jumped once more and fell to the floor next to his feet.

"Dean! Wait for me!" He shouted as he grabbed his jacket and ran out of the room.

The end.


End file.
